


Transfiguration Lesson

by Roselightfairy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 15:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12460854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roselightfairy/pseuds/Roselightfairy
Summary: Death Eaters have taken over the Ministry and Hogwarts.  Dumbledore's Army has not yet assembled, but there is resistance.  McGonagall teaches, Ginny is tense, and Luna observes.





	Transfiguration Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2013 and posted on fanfiction.net.

The first Transfiguration class of their sixth year is the closest to normal that it gets all year.  And it isn’t even normal.

And when Luna Lovegood is referring to something as abnormal, then it’s very obvious that there’s a problem.

The class is with McGonagall, of course, and she’s determined to keep things running as smoothly as possible, even if she has been demoted from her rightful post as headmistress to be replaced by a Death Eater and a murderer, and even if Colin Creevey and Eden Lancing are missing and their empty seats seem to take up more space than if they were filled, but it’s Minerva McGonagall, and she will educate her students if it’s the last thing she does, and no one’s really surprised by her attitude.

Everyone’s on time, because the halls have been eerily silent all day, broken only by the occasional loud bark of a Carrow lecturing someone.  Already, Luna and Ginny have received a detention for “loitering” in the corner of the hall trying to have a discussion, and although they haven’t seen Neville since breakfast they’re sure it’s the same for him.  Snape must have told the Carrows who was there that fateful night last June, when the DA coins burned for the first time in over a year, and the Death Eaters have their eyes on Ginny, Neville, and Luna now.

But, except for the empty seats of those who have opted out of NEWT Transfiguration, or those who are now on the run (or worse, though no one will say those words out loud), everyone is seated before class starts.  Professor McGonagall is already in the room, but that’s because she’s Professor McGonagall and she is always strict and prompt, even if there are dark circles under her eyes that say she hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since the Ministry fell, even if her hair drawn back into its tight bun looks a little grayer than usual, even if there is a shadow at the corner of her mouth and her lips are thinner than ever before and her neck muscles are tensed, waiting for a fight, waiting for _something . . ._

A wave of respect washes over Luna for her ever-formidable professor, and she sits up a little straighter, meets McGonagall’s eyes.  And she swears she sees the faintest of gleams in the dark eyes in the front of the room, the tiniest twitch of the jaw, just a hint of a smile – and Luna feels Ginny beside her, reaches under the desk and squeezes the other girl’s hand, to try to pass on just a little of this hope that she has just found.

But Ginny’s brown eyes are dull, not blazing like they usually do, and she barely returns the pressure of Luna’s hand.  She’s almost as stiff as Professor McGonagall, in the front of the room, and Luna presses her hand tighter.

It’s five minutes before class is supposed to start, and Professor McGonagall’s eyes flick over all the desks – lingering particularly on the empty ones.  Her wand twitches in her fingers.

Finally, she clears her throat and steps forward.

“It seems that everyone is present,” she says, and her voice is just as stern as usual, betraying not a hint of the stress and fear she must be experiencing on a daily basis.  She continues.  “Forgive me for forcing you all to sit there and wait, but I have been informed that under the watch of our new . . . _headmaster_ ,” and she says the word with the utmost contempt, as though what she is speaking of is something she’s found on her shoe rather than her superior, “there are to be no breaches of school protocol, regardless of how small.”  Her eyes linger on Ginny and Luna, sitting together, and Luna’s sure she can read something in her eyes that says the exact opposite.  “So, if you are all willing to wait . . .” She checks her watch, and her nostrils flare slightly, “four minutes, then we will begin our lesson.”

Then she steps back, stands in front of her desk, and everyone returns to sitting silently, staring dully ahead, occasionally sneaking glances at the empty desks.

Once, for an article for the Quibbler, Luna and her father both learned the Muggle Morse Code.  Luna took to it right away – she loves things like that, tiny secrets, new branches of life hidden inside tiny pockets of sound which no one else would ever notice – and now, she starts tapping out random words with her fingers on the desk.  She should teach Morse Code to Ginny and Neville, she muses, especially if they do go ahead with the plan of starting Dumbledore’s Army anew.  Hopefully, they can continue using the Galleons – but it might be useful to have something like this as well.

Slowly, deliberately, leaving careful pauses between each word, she taps _Does anyone in this room know Morse Code?_ on her desk.

She waits for an answer, strains her ears, but none comes.  Some people are looking at her, puzzled, but not many – most have simply accepted that it’s Loony Lovegood and that everything she does or says should be taken with a grain of salt.  But Ginny looks up, and for the first time today, there is a spark of something resembling life – a question in her bright brown eyes.

Luna inclines her head a tiny bit, trying to convey, _Later_.

Finally, Professor McGonagall steps forward again, braces a hand on her desk, clears her throat.  It is time for the lesson to begin.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice crisp as usual, “to NEWT Transfiguration.”  She proceeds to lay out the rules and guidelines regarding learning, homework, and behavior, and she finishes with, “If you do not abide strictly by these rules, I will be forced to give you a detention.”  She can’t say what she obviously wants to, not with the two Slytherins sitting in the back smirking as though they are already planning their reports to the Carrows, but she does say, “And if at all possible, I would prefer to avoid that situation.  Do I make myself understood?”

There’s a lot of nodding and mumbled “Yes, Professor”s, and then she turns to the class, fixes them with her stare, and declares that she will now collect the summer homework.

She goes around the classroom asking everyone to hand theirs to her, and when she gets to Luna and collects her essay, she looks almost on the verge of speech before pressing her lips tightly together again, and Luna wonders what she wanted to say but just then she’s moved on to Ginny and Luna is distracted.

“Miss Weasley,” says Professor McGonagall sternly, and it wouldn’t be loud but _no one_ in the classroom is talking, it’s still filled with this dreadful eerie silence, and everyone in the room can hear her, “am I to understand that you did not do your homework?”

“No, I didn’t, Professor,” replies Ginny, and her voice is as lifeless as her eyes.

“Do you have a reason for this?” asks Professor McGonagall, and perhaps to the others it sounds just as strict as it was before, but Luna can sense a softening in her voice and demeanor.  Obviously she knows what’s happened to Ginny this summer – and Luna barely holds back a shudder, remembering the hooded figures bursting into the wedding, remembers looking around, panicked, for her father, remembers the fear of never finding him –

“No reason, Professor,” says Ginny dully, and Luna grasps her hand again under the desk.

“Miss Weasley,” says Professor McGonagall, and the tone of her voice is a mixture of stress, frustration, sympathy, and fear –

“Put me in detention, I know,” interrupts Ginny, face still as hard as diamond but with none of its shine, and she slams her textbook onto her desk, stands up, and sweeps out of the classroom, leaving her bag and books still on her desk, and Luna’s halfway to her feet before she remembers Professor McGonagall and she starts to sink back into her chair but she looks at the professor pleadingly –

“You’d better go after her, Miss Lovegood,” says Professor McGonagall, and something in her eyes says, _I understand._   “And tell her that just this once, she will not be receiving a detention.”

“Thank you, Professor,” murmurs Luna, quickly gathering up Ginny’s things and her own, standing up, and hurrying out of the classroom after Ginny.


End file.
